


everything has changed

by confetti



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Brief swearing, F/M, Light Angst, MJ has a soft spot for Peter Parker, Peter Parker Has a Crush, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker and MJ dance around their feelings, Spideychelle, Underage Drinking, general irresponsibility
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:47:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25934641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confetti/pseuds/confetti
Summary: An innocent night out at a party turns into an alcohol fiasco - or, MJ takes care of Peter when his anxiety gets the best of him.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Peter Parker/MJ, Peter Parker/Michelle Jones
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21
Collections: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker





	everything has changed

It happens a week and a half after the news report comes out. 

Peter’s pretty sure he can still hear the reporter’s voice in his ears, echoing over and over again, and that video that Mysterio recorded is stuck on repeat in the back of his mind.  _ Spiderman’s name is Peter Parker _ . 

He winces, sinking lower into his seat as he avoids the harsh glares that he knows are being cut in his direction. He was never expecting to be revealed to the public - not like this - and he should’ve known it would take a hit on his already minorly-depressing reputation. If his classmates hated him before, they sure as hell  _ despise  _ him now, with the exceptions of Ned and MJ.

May had offered to let him stay home from school for the first few weeks back, but Peter had been insistent upon proving that he would be fine. He couldn’t cower at home forever, and besides, why would he give May another reason to worry? Plus, it’s not like he’s got anything to spend his time on other than school and - it’s not like Spider-Man’s currently a fan favorite, so patrolling’s out of the question. Now, though, he’s beginning to wish he’d stayed at home after all. 

As soon as the bell rings, Peter leaps out of his seat and rushes into the hallway, ducking past his lingering classmates. Lunch is maybe the only part of the day he actually looks forward to, because he gets to see the only two people that actually put up with him inside this huge school. 

Ned’s already sitting at the table by the time Peter gets there. “Hey, Peter!” he greets him jovially, grinning, and Peter offers him a small wave as he tosses his backpack onto the floor beside him. MJ shows up only a few seconds later, taking a seat across from the pair of boys. 

“Hey, losers.” Her tone is deadpan, but her eyes are slightly more teasing than usual as she glances up at Peter. He can’t help but grin shyly. Whatever’s going on between him and MJ is still unlabeled, but they’ve been close lately, and they’ve shared more than a couple kisses since their first among the wreckage in London. “Are you coming to the party at Flash’s tonight?” 

“Flash?” Peter repeats, staring at her incredulously. He can’t say he’s surprised at the fact that MJ got invited to this party when he didn’t, but it sure does feel like his reputation’s hit a new all-time-low. “Pretty sure he hates me, especially after the whole  _ Peter is Spider-Man  _ thing. I’m probably not the person he was hoping would be behind the mask.” 

“You’re  _ Spider-Man _ , Peter. He probably reads fanfiction about you in his spare time. Besides, no one’s even going to notice you’re there.” 

“Wow, thanks,” Peter says dryly. MJ smacks him lightly across the arm.

“Shut up. You know what I mean.” She gives him a pointed look, and Peter shrugs in defeat.

“Ned, you wanna go?” he asks his best friend, who gives him a muffled  _ mhm _ with his mouth full of sandwich and tosses him a thumbs-up. 

“Okay, so we’re going to a party at Flash’s house this evening,” Peter says to himself, nodding slowly. He can’t figure out how he feels about it; he’d been on the verge of saying no, but he had to consider the fact that MJ’s apparently going. It doesn’t exactly seem like her scene, and he’s surprised to hear that she’s even interested in showing up. 

Then again, a lot of things have changed. 

* * *

“May, ‘m home!” Peter calls as he shoves the door open, throwing his backpack off to the side and stepping into the kitchen. “May?” 

“Peter, hi.” May emerges from the living room, glancing over her shoulder and holding up a finger. “School go okay?” There’s a noticeable concern in her voice as she looks at him, and Peter knows she’s worried he’s taking the whole reveal too hard. 

“It was fine. Who’s that?” Peter watches her curiously. 

“That? Oh, uh…” May laughs, a touch too easily, and Peter sidesteps her so he can look into the living room himself. Happy’s sitting on the couch stiffly, looking at Peter out of the corner of his eye like he knows he’s been caught.  _ Of course _ . Peter should’ve known. Happy’s been coming over more and more often lately, and although Peter doesn’t mind having someone who doesn’t hate him around, he has to admit it’s  _ kinda  _ weird to see his aunt and his former handler-slash-babysitter kissing at the dinner table while he’s trying to eat. 

“Yeah, uh, cool. May, I just wanted to tell you that I’m, uh, I’m going to a party tonight.” May’s face lights up at the news, and she pulls Peter into a tight hug before he can slip away. 

“Peter, honey, that’s great!” There’s a hopeful note in her voice, and he can practically feel her grinning. “You got invited to a party?”

“Well…” Peter hesitates. “Yes and no.” 

“Well, I’m just glad you’re getting out.” May pats him awkwardly on the shoulder. “You can drive the car, right? And you’re going to be responsible and avoid alcohol?” She stares at him expectantly, hands finding their way onto her hips as she awaits a response.

“Yes, May,” Peter groans, nodding. “I will avoid alcohol.” 

“I trust you.” May smiles at him, then shoots a not-so-subtle glance towards Happy. “Why don’t you go get ready?”

Peter presses his lips together in order to keep a laugh from escaping and moves towards his room. When he walks in, a flash of red in the corner catches his eye, and he stares at his discarded Spider-Man suit for a second with a lump in his throat that he can’t swallow. He misses it, that’s for sure. Patrolling every night may have been the most mundane part of the job, but he still likes to think he made a small difference, helped some people, at the very least. He barely knows what to do with himself now that it’s not a part of his daily routine. 

Finally, after tearing his gaze away from the suit, he falls onto his bed, staring upwards blankly as he clenches his fingers together out of habit. Maybe this party’s a bad idea, he thinks, because there’s suddenly an unnatural churning in his stomach that’s been showing up more and more often lately. It’s the lingering intuition that something’s going to go wrong, a sinking feeling in his gut. Call it what you want -  _ “spidey-sense _ ” or  _ “anxiety _ ” - but Peter’s starting to wonder if he should just stay home.

_ No, I have to go _ . His mind flies to MJ at the lunch table earlier today, the barely-noticeable-but-still-present hopeful glint in her eye when he said he’d be coming. And just like that, the resolute, determined sense he’d had only a few minutes ago has returned, MJ’s face etched in the back of his mind as he rushes to get ready. A smile ghosts his lips, and he notices something he hasn’t felt since a week and a half ago: he’s really, truly excited. 

* * *

“Hey, Peter.” He’s at the party, searching the crowd for Ned, when MJ approaches him, a shy smile dancing on her expression. Maybe they’re just friends when Ned’s around, but whenever it’s just the two of them, there’s something else lingering inside the awkwardness. Calling it a  _ spark _ would be cliche, but Peter can’t think of a better way to describe it - maybe a  _ connection _ , as though it’s on a spiritual level. 

He lifts his hand in a wave as she walks over, offering a small smile himself. “You, uh, enjoying the party?” 

“No. People are lame,” MJ tells him instantly, and Peter flinches slightly at her words. They’re completely on-brand for her, but he’s not expecting her to be so harsh. “Except for you. You’re pretty okay.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She laughs, and he ducks his head bashfully. Then, looking around, he wrinkles his nose. “I didn’t know Flash had this many friends.”

“They’re only his friends when the alcohol’s around, trust me,” MJ says, tilting her head towards the fold-out table that’s sitting in the middle of the living room and the cooler beside it. “I’d avoid the punch and everything that’s not water, if I were you.” 

“Huh.” Peter nods, eyes skimming over the crowd for a second before he turns back to MJ, but before he gets a chance to say anything else, Flash is poking his head into their conversation. 

“Parker! Didn’t expect to see you here!” He’s genuine enough, but he’s exuding a sense of over-friendliness that makes Peter suspicious. Then, lowering his voice to a whisper, he asks, “Did you bring the suit?” 

Peter stares at him incredulously. “Why would I bring my suit to a high school party?” 

“I don’t know, I just figured… you know, in case you needed to fight off some supervillains or something.”

Right now, Peter’s more concerned with fighting off the judgemental eyes of his classmates, but he doesn’t tell Flash that. Instead, he purses his lips for a second, eyes flitting to MJ as he gives her a silent cry for help. “No, ah, I didn’t think of that. It’s a cool party, but, um, I think MJ and I were going to head out.” 

“No, wait, you can’t leave so soon!” Peter’s about to protest, but he doesn’t have time to say a single word before Flash grabs him by the arm and starts walking towards the food and drinks he’s got set up. He casts one last desperate glance towards MJ, who’s widening her eyes in amusement, before he’s tugged away. “Here, I’ll make you a drink.” 

“No, I really don’t need-” Flash shoves a red plastic solo cup into Peter’s hand enthusiastically. “Uh, thanks.” 

“There’s some  _ better _ stuff in here, if you know what I mean,” he says with a wink, tapping the blue plastic of the cooler with the toe of his shoe. “Well, enjoy the party, Peter. Let me know if you need anything!” Peter narrows his eyes at him as he leaves. He can’t decide if it’s his sudden, out-of-character friendliness or his use of Peter’s real first name that’s most surprising. The one thing he’s sure of, decidedly, is that now that he’s over here, the rest of the crowd has started to slowly gravitate away, and he can feel gazes flickering onto him, hears hushed whispers shielded by cupped hands, and suddenly, the spiked punch isn’t looking so bad. 

The thing with drinking at these sorts of parties is that one can quickly turn into two. Or, in Peter’s case, two before he pulls a beer out of the cooler, sacrificing any shred of self-dignity that he may have had left as he pops open the can. He’s only half-conscious of what he’s doing, so it barely registers when MJ pokes him in the shoulder, then does it again a second later. 

“Peter.” She says it softly, her tone laced with concern, then a second later when he doesn’t respond: “Peter!” 

He turns around, grinning at her with sparkling eyes. “Oh, hey, MJ!” His voice is bright, and you’d have never thought that only a few minutes earlier he was practically dripping in self-doubt. “Turns out the punch is actually really good.” 

No one else has noticed Peter’s strange behavior - probably because everyone else is so caught up with the party that they barely notice Peter at all, anymore. Or maybe it’s the alcohol talking that’s making him ignore everyone else’s sweaty presences dancing around the floor of Flash’s large home. Either way, Peter’s done enough caring about other people’s opinions for one day, and letting loose is just what he needed. 

“Dammit, are you drunk?” MJ groans, and Peter shrugs. “Peter. Oh my god. You are. Where’s Ned when you need him?” 

“Oh yeah, did Ned ever come?” Peter stares at her as he waits for her response, and she shakes her head at him. 

“No idea. C’mon, we have to get you out of here.” 

“No, wait, I was having fun!” Peter whines, but MJ’s already grabbed him by the arm and is pulling him towards the door. The cool night air bites against his skin as they step onto the porch, and Peter crinkles his nose in annoyance as he tries to rid himself of her grip. 

“Peter.” MJ’s tone is warning as she gives him a look, one eyebrow raised. “I thought you promised May you wouldn’t drink.” 

“Yeah, but it just felt really nice and the party was getting boring anyway and Flash gave me that drink and-” 

“First sign that something’s horribly wrong is the fact that you listened to anything Flash said.” MJ cuts him off as she begins to lead him down the steps. “Seriously, Peter, you weren’t supposed to have alcohol in the first place. Where’s your phone?”

Peter digs it out of his pocket, holding it away from her skeptically. “What’re you gonna do with it?” 

“I’m texting May to tell her you’re sleeping over at my house.” She watches him for a second before continuing. “You know she’ll be able to tell you’re drunk if you go home like this. We’ll take your car.” 

He stares at her reluctantly for a second, but then his head is spinning and he’s hit by a sudden onset of nausea and he tosses her his phone before turning away to throw up in a bush. MJ eyes him with subtle disgust, but when his stomach has finally settled, she points to where his car is parked crookedly on the sidewalk. “C’mon. I’ll drive.” 

Peter attempts a grateful smile, sinking into the passenger side of the car as she starts to drive. The smooth, swift movements are calming, and he finds himself almost drifting off to sleep when she suddenly speaks again. “Are you okay, Peter?” 

They’re stopped at a traffic light, red glaring at them as MJ shoots him a worried glance. He shrugs, gaze drifting out the window, fingers drumming at his legs as he gulps down the nerves in his throat. “I don’t know. It’s… it’s been hard, I guess, after the whole news story.” He has to pause, take a shuddering breath, before continuing, eyebrows knitting together tightly. “I just always feel like something’s gonna go wrong. And it usually does. It kinda makes me wonder why I’m still trying so hard, I guess, when it feels like all I ever do is disappoint people.” 

“Peter.” MJ’s face softens, and she places a tentative hand on top of his. “You’re not a disappointment.” 

“What if I am?” His voice cracks as he speaks, and it takes everything in him to meet her eyes. “I told May I wasn’t going to drink, and the next thing I knew, I was totally wasted. I don’t wanna let her down, but sometimes it feels like I can’t help it.” 

“Peter, this would be hard on anyone,” she tells him quietly. “It’s crazy, and I know it feels like you’re being ripped from everything you used to know, but I promise you don’t have to do it alone. There’s people who want to help you.” She pauses. “Like me.” 

Peter smiles softly, and even though he’s pretty sure he’s still drunk, something about MJ makes him feel sober - clear-headed. Safe. “Thank you,” he says, biting his lip. “I, uh, I really appreciate it.” 

“Anytime.” And then the moment’s over, because the light’s turned green and MJ’s eyes snap back to the road and they fall silent, but Peter still feels so much better than he did a moment earlier. It’s something about MJ’s presence, her quiet yet comforting demeanor, that makes him feel like he can finally take a breath, exist without anyone else’s input. And it’s really, really nice. 

They make it to MJ’s house, and it’s silent when they walk in, MJ poking her head around the corner to make sure there’s really no one home. “Here’s the guest bedroom,” she tells him, gesturing to a grey-walled room with minimal decoration. “I’ll put an extra toothbrush on the counter. Do you, uh, do you need anything else?” 

Peter shakes his head, gives her an appreciative smile. “Thank you.” 

She nods, waving away his gratitude with one hand. “I’m gonna go to bed.” She moves to leave, but before she goes, she gives him another glance. “Goodnight, Peter.” 

“Goodnight, MJ.” And then she’s gone, vanished down the dark hallway, and Peter’s left standing there, a giddy, awestruck expression playing on his features. After a second, he turns away, moving to crawl under the bedsheets, and before he has another chance to contemplate everything that’s on his mind, he’s fallen fast asleep.

* * *

When Peter wakes up the next morning, sunlight glaring at him through the cracked blinds, the events of last night are foggy, and he can barely remember where he is. It takes a few minutes of squinting at the ceiling in confusion and glancing around the room to figure out he’s at MJ’s house, and he rubs the sleep out of his eyes as he crawls out of bed to find her. 

She’s in the living room, sketchbook in hand, when he walks in, and she gives him a careful smile. He waves back, sitting tentatively on the couch, as he tries to figure out what to say. 

“Thank you,” he settles on finally, and he can feel heat rushing to his cheeks as he speaks. “For everything. I really appreciate it.”

She glances away from him, but he can still see a small grin peeking through. “Yeah, loser, just don’t make a habit of it,” she tells him, eyes flitting to him for just a split second before they find her sketchbook again. 

“I won’t,” Peter assures her. “And there’s something else, too.” 

“What is it?” 

“I think I want to see a therapist,” Peter says quickly, and interest sparks on MJ’s face. “I’ve just… I’ve been stressed lately, and I think maybe it would help to find someone to talk to about all this stuff. Especially now that I don’t have to hide the whole Spider-Man thing anymore. And maybe they could explain why I feel so anxious.” 

He can’t quite figure out why he tells her, really, except for the fact that something about her makes him feel like he can trust her with anything. And spitting the words out is hard, because he’s not used to appearing so vulnerable - not in front of MJ, and not in front of anyone - but once he finally does, it feels as though there’s been a weight lifted off of his chest. It’s freeing, in a way, and it makes him feel like maybe there is a chance that all of this could get better. 

MJ smiles. “I think that’s great, Peter.”

He smiles back at her, relieved to hear someone else’s opinion. And then they fall quiet, the only audible sound the noise of MJ’s pencil against her paper, but this time, it’s not awkward or uncomfortable or hard to read. This time, Peter feels utterly and completely where he belongs, and it’s finally just right. 

He knows he needs to figure out how he’s going to tell May what happened - he’s decided that from now on, he’s going to be honest with everyone, including himself. Still, just for right now, he’s living in the moment, enjoying how calm and happy and perfect everything feels. And for the first time in a long time, Peter knows he’s right where he’s supposed to be.

Maybe everything’s changed, but Peter doesn’t mind. Mostly because some of it’s for the better. 


End file.
